Own goal

I wrote a few weeks ago from Belgrade that “nationalism has the edge.”  Milan Marinković, who lives in Niš, Serbia, writes that in Bosnia the situation is even more concerning, given its multi-ethnic/confessional fabric. Separation of religion and state there is an imperative:

Is secularism achievable in the Western Balkans?  In former Yugoslavia it was.  On paper, it still is.  The constitutions of the states that emerged from Yugoslavia prescribe that religion should be kept separate from state affairs.  But in real life the separation is difficult to put into effect.

A strong tendency of religious institutions in the Balkans to meddle in politics is understandable. For most of the region’s history, religion played a crucial role both in building and hardening ethnic (aka “national”) identities.

Since the fall of the Berlin wall, religion has significantly contributed to the upsurge of aggressive ethnic nationalism throughout the region.  From the nationalist standpoint that prevails among South Slavs, in order to be recognized as a “true” member of a nation (aka ethnic group), one must belong to the relevant religious denomination.  Accordingly, a Serb can be Serb only if he or she is Orthodox Christian; a Croat can be Croat only if she or he is Catholic; a Bosniak can be Bosniak only if he or she is Muslim.

This conception of national identity as rooted in religion served the purposes of political and religious elites during the wars of 1990s.  There has been little change since then.  Today it guarantees Serb parties votes from Serbs, Muslim parties votes from Muslims and Croat parties votes from Croats.  There might be limited political competition within ethnic groups, but “nationalist” parties would prefer no competition between them.

The rigid ethno-religious concept is now a major obstacle to reconciliation among the formerly belligerent groups.  The only apparent solution in a state like Bosnia, where there are three “constituent” peoples (Croats, Bosniaks and Serbs), is separation of religion and state:  secularization, in a word.

In Bosnian elementary schools, as well as in Serbian and Croatian ones, religious education is a voluntary subject, but the grades children receive are calculated into their overall score at the end of a school year together with the grades in compulsory subjects. The former education minister of Sarajevo canton, Emir Suljagić, found this practice to be unjust to the children who did not attend religious education.

Not surprisingly, Suljagić is a member of Bosnia’s Social Democratic Party, which prides itself on multiethnic appeal, even if the bulk of its votes come from people who regard themselves as Bosniaks.  More surprisingly, he lost thirteen family members murdered at Srebrenica in 1995, when Serb forces overwhelmed the Eastern Bosnia town and killed thousands of Bosniak men and boys.

Suljagić ’s intention was not to eliminate religious education from the schools, though he certainly could have attempted that.  He only tried to establish a rule that would have put an end to unequal treatment of non-religious students, who do not attend religious instruction.  But the wrath of Bosnia’s Islamic community leadership and radical Islamists forced Suljagić to resign and leave the country following a series of death threats to him and his family.

What happened to Emir Suljagić demonstrates how strong resistance to secularization is in Bosnia. Worse than that, it shows the inability – some even believe unwillingness – of Bosnian police to protect the safety of a state official – let alone an ordinary person.

In an attempt to justify his secessionist ambitions, the president of the Serb-dominated half of Bosnia, Milorad Dodik, often accuses Bosniaks of trying to make Bosnia an Islamic state. Top clerics of the Islamic community of Bosnia, led by Reis Effendi Mustafa Cerić, like to portray themselves as the “ultimate guardians” of the Bosnian state.  Unfortunately, this tends to prove Dodik’s point, as does hounding Suljagić from office.